#sobbing and crying I need to watch this again
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alexi-was-not-here · 3 days ago
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Hey everyone... I saw the other reblogs and the were beautiful and I love them and you should go show them love and support BUT this story has been floating in my head and I would like to write my version {which will be extremely similar to the others BUT I love Janus and would like him to not be the bad guy... so think of this of an au of this hc I guess}
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Thomas had just woken up, which meant it was time for Virgil to go help Thomas make it through the day. Virgil left his room and began to make his way downstairs when all of a sudden he heard a yell, he turned towards the noise and saw a shocked formal looking side.
"Uh h-" Virgil went to greet him before he was cut off by a different voice
"Who. Are. You?" Said a side who looked like they were closet cosplaying every Disney prince combined, who was dawning a samurai sword strangely enough.
"I- I'm anxiety" Virgil responded nervously
"Why the hell are you here, Thomas doesn't need you, no one does" Virgil felt taken aback, he's a bit nervous to talk back considering the sword, but he's supposed to be there just as much as the rest of them, right?
"I- b-but-" Virgil is trying to get a sentence out but his mind is racing and his throat is starting to close.
"But what? Spit it out or," The "prince" 's grip tightens on the sword he's holding, though he stands his ground infront of two other sides, the one with a cardigan around his neck grips Roman's jacket, "get lost."
Virgil tried to get any words out of throat but instead all he got was his own racing thoughts and stinging behind his eyes. He walks back up the stairs and hears the other sides breathe a breath of relief and return to their happy banter they were having before he walked in. Virgil collapsed on his bed and finally he let muffled sobs escape his chest. He wasn't trying to scare anyone, he just- he was helpful right? Maybe he wasn't helpful after all, just like he had feared. Maybe he truly was there to cause distress. He fell asleep crying.
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Time and time again he tried going downstairs but he would go back up to his room after being berated by the Prince guy, or freaking out the light blue side, or getting nervous and watchful glares from the formal side. He eventually stopped trying to help the three of them as he mostly seemed to be an annoyance, and favoring staying in his room instead and allowing his thoughts to consume him.
The only time he was able to not be a nuisance to the other sides was at night when Thomas was about to fall asleep, it was the only time he was able to talk to him. Though, he did occasionally get thrown out when Princey couldn't sleep either.
One thing Virgil enjoyed doing though, was sitting at the top of the stairs and eavesdrop on athe three other side who he found out were Morality, Logic, and Creativity. He enjoyed listening to them talk, and pretending that they talked to him too.
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One day when Virgil was listening to Logic explain something he found intresting he was pulled out his thoughts by an unfamiliar voice.
"Hey, you seem cool. You wanna come hang out with us?" Virgil turned to see a side dressed similarly to Creativity except he seems to like black and green, bent over towards Virgil {a little too close} with a wide grin on his face.
"U-us?" Virgil asked confused considering he only saw green creativity{?}.
"Hello" Virgil heard a voice from the shadows {Totally not creepy} and a yellow gloved hand wave to him.
"Oh oh by the way, I'm creativity" Also Creativity said as he stood up straight and extended his hand to Virgil. "So what do you say wanna come with us?" Virgil glanced down at Logic remembering how apprehensive he was around him, at Morality who was so scared he would hide behind Princey and hold his jacket, and finally at Princey who when they first met had told him "Thomas doesn't need you, no one does" and those words still haunted him everytime he closed his eyes.
And then he looked at Creativity who said he was cool and seem eager to get to know him, and the not-at-all-creepy shadow figure in the hallway who smiled at him too, and he took Creativity's hand.
"I'm anxiety"
"Ooooo, well anxiety do you like Dance Dance Revolution?"
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It had been several months since Virgil decided to follow Creativity into their hangout. He learned that this Creativity's name is Remus and is essentially thoughts doesn't want to have, and while he never learned the other sides name, he did tell Virgil he has the role of Deceit though.
Living with them especially Remus had been... stressful to say the least but it was also the first time he felt wanted and, Deceit had even told him how cool it was he was anxiety and that Thomas is lucky to have him.
Unfortunately though despite all this he wanted so desperately to go back to the other sides. He was tired of being ignored and thanks to his time with "The Dark Sides" {it's what Remus called them} he had learned not to take crap. And it was time that Thomas finally heard him.
So, he went back to his room upstairs away from Deceit and Remus in the middle of the night, knowing he'd be able to talk to Thomas unbothered.
And he went downstairs in the morning, and didn't leave even after the groans or fears exclamations, and Princey didn't seem to be as eager with his sword so he stuck around. And FINALLY the sides would listen to him, even if they didn't particularly always like what he was saying.
--
Thanks for reading everyone!! I will make a part two if there is demand for it but I think I closed it up pretty okay :}
Angst idea
During Thomas’ preteen years everytime Virgil got near Patton or Logan, Roman would stand between them and draw his sword. They were a lot younger then and they didn’t understand each other like they do now. Anxiety scared them all even though he was just trying to help in his own way, partially because of the way he went about it, partially cause no one wants to be anxious and they were kids.
Logan would always tell Roman he was being excessive but he would screech Roman’s name if Anxiety was there and Roman wasn’t.
Patton always told Roman not to be mean when he started insulting Anxiety, but he did cower behind the creative side while he did it.
Virgil would put on a tough guy act “You think I’m scared of a sword Princey?” and he was, but more than that it hurt to watch the rest of Thomas hating him so much.
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9haharharley1 · 3 days ago
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I need to see the nastiest, most intense BDSM session Jack is willing to go with Pitch as well as aftercare cuz Pitch ain't a bitch/lh
I hope your night goes smooth btw!
Jack lay shaking on the bed. His stomach was splattered with cum, thighs shiny with lube. His nipples were puffy and swollen, cheeks purple with a deep blush. Shadows left inky stains as they slid away, loosening the ropes binding the younger man's limbs and revealing reddish-purple marks on his shoulders, chest, wrists, thighs, and ankles. Splotches of red and purple littered his body where Pitch had sucked and bit at his skin relentlessly, deep imprints left over on his cheeks where a ball gag had been tightened to keep Jack from crying out and begging him to stop. A rather deep and vicious bite had torn the delicate skin of one thigh, scabbed over from Jack's own internal cold, and Pitch ran his fingers over it gently. Jack jerked at his touch, trying to pull his leg away, but Pitch lifted it easily. He hooked a thin ankle over his shoulder, rubbing soothingly at the marks on Jack's thighs, and kissed the mark on Jack's thigh. Jack trembled beneath him.
He had never looked so exquisite.
"So good, Jack..." Pitch murmured against his skin. It was loud in the quiet room, once filled with his own heavy, desperate breathing as he fucked Jack viciously into the bed, the poor little spirit unable to do more than squeal and moan behind his gag as Pitch had his way with him. Their pleasure and pain had filled the room, echoing back to Pitch like sweet music in the dark, but all that could be heard now was his own calming breathes and Jack's ragged ones. Jack shuddered at the sound of his voice, the first he had spoken since putting the blindfold over Jack's eyes shortly after fastening the gag. A quiet sob escaped Jack, and Pitch watched as teeth sunk into his swollen lower lip. He kissed the bite mark again. "You look absolutely gorgeous like this, Jack," he whispered against soft skin. Jack heaved another soft cry. "So beautiful..."
He rubbed at the bite with his thumb, feeling the muscle quiver under his hand. Then he slowly slid his hands over Jack's legs, massaging the imprints of rope left behind on pale thighs. He couldn't bear to look at the mess dripping from between pale cheeks less he grow hard again, and instead trailed gentle kisses up along his thigh, up to his hips and flat stomach. Jack's abdomen flexed with the shock of touch, and a sob echoed in the quiet room. The sound of a hand smacking flesh soon followed, and Pitch glanced up to see Jack covering his mouth to stifle his cries. He kissed Jack's chest gently, avoiding no-doubt sore nipples.
"You did so well, love," he whispered against his skin. He sat up, stretching out along Jack's side, one arm coming up to prop himself and curl over Jack's head on the pillow protectively. He carded fingers through soft, sweaty white hair and reached for the blindfold he'd yet to remove, unwilling to subject his young lover to all of his senses in one abrupt moment after their scene. He removed it slowly, flinging it into the dark and pressing gentle kisses to Jack's flushed cheek. "Such a good boy for me..." he whispered into a flushed ear.
Jack still trembled against him, and Pitch pressed himself more fully against his side, allowing his heat to sink into his cold little lover. He whispered soothing nonsense into Jack's ear, kissing his face and neck, rubbing at the marks left over on his skin and avoiding the sore spots until Jack's shaking calmed down. Eventually, he was able to take Jack's hand, moving it away to reveal his pouty lips, but instead of claiming his mouth like he so desperately wanted, Pitch squeezed his fingers, raising his hand to his lips for a kiss. He kissed the palm of Jack's hand and then each long finger until he dragged his lips up the back of his hand to place another kiss. All the while, he ran his other hand through Jack's hair. When he finally reached a thin wrist, Pitch kissed the imprint of rope left behind, opening his eyes just enough to look up at the lovely creature gazing back at him with tears in his eyes. He did not let go of Jack's hand as he lowered it, holding it gently with his own.
"Hey..." he murmured. He kissed Jack's shoulder sweetly. "Back with me?"
Jack swallowed, thick and noisy, but he nodded. A tremble still ran through him, but not nearly as violent as it had been when Pitch started loosening the ropes.
"Can you speak?" Pitch asked softly. Jack swallowed again. He shook his head. "One moment."
Pitch kissed his shoulder again before lowering Jack's hand to let him go. Almost immediately, a shiver racked in Jack's body, and Pitch was quick to half turn on his side, grabbing an ice cube created by Jack himself from a bowl on the nightstand. He rolled back over to his lover, pressing along his side and resuming his gentle petting of white hair as he placed the cube of ice to Jack's lips. Swollen lips parted just so, and Pitch had to steady his own breathing as he ran it along them, until it melted enough between the heat of his fingers to place in his lover's mouth. Jack moaned a little, sucking on the little cube of ice.
"Good boy," Pitch murmured again. Jack slowly turned his head to look up at him. His eyes were bright in the dark, and Pitch thought he had never looked so lovely. He cupped Jack cheek in his hand, smoothing his thumb over the imprints from the gag. He breathed out a shaky sigh. "Gods, you're so good to me, Jack... My sweet, beautiful Jack..."
Jack managed a ghost of his usual smirk, cheeks flushed. "Flatterer..." His voice cracked with the word, and he bit down on the ice cube in his mouth.
Pitch simply kissed his cheek again. "Is it flattery of I simply speak the truth?" He pulled back to gaze down unblinking into bright blue eyes. "Or because you have yet to believe it?"
Jack looked away, chewing his ice. Pitch gently urged him back with the hand on his cheek. His gaze softened.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, curious and gentle.
It took a moment, and Jack gave him a wry little glare, but when Pitch simply continued to stare, rubbing his cheek and petting his hair, Jack eventually sighed. He shook his head slowly.
"Not..." He licked his lips. "Not in a way I didn't ask for," he admitted. Pitch smiled.
"Good," he muttered. He took Jack's hand in his again, lifting it to his lips. "That's good... I worried I may have gone a bit overboard..." He kissed the delicate wrist again.
Jack shook his head. "You didn't. It was... intense, but so is everything with you." He laughed quietly to himself.
"Oh, is that so?" Pitch murmured. "Should I dial it back?"
"Nah." Jack struggled to sit up, Pitch helping to prop him up against the pillows. He wrapped his arm around Jack's waist, holding him close and stroking his hip lightly. "I like your intensity." His hand shook as he pulled it from Pitch's own, pressing it against his cheek. Pitch's eyes fell closed, and he leaned into the cooling touch with a small smile. "Wouldn't be you without it."
"Hm," Pitch hummed. He turned his head to kiss Jack's palm before opening his eyes, meeting Jack's soft smile with his own, gaze lidded contentedly. "Well, I can't very well let you go, then, can I?"
Jack laughed. "I'd be mad if you did," he admitted. It was quiet and full of love, and Pitch's heart swelled in his chest. Jack's othe hand reached up to tug Pitch's arm. "Kiss me?"
Pitch was quick to sit up further to accommodate him.
---
I went with the aftercare, I hope that's ok!
Partially inspired by this!
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slxt4chriss · 1 day ago
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Sharpest Tool
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Summary: FratBoy!Chris let’s reader down telling her that their only casual while she was thinking it was something more
Warning: angst, mentions of being a fuck buddie, makeup sex, crying, yelling, swearing, p in v, fingering
PART 1.
‘I’m looking for an answer in between the lines lying to yourself if you think we’re fine’
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“What the fuck do you mean, we’re just some casual ‘friends with benefits’, you know we’re more than that!” She yelled throwing the nearest thing at him, which happened to be an empty beer can. “I mean we’re not ever gonna be anything more than what we already are, I’m sorry, but I can’t love anyone like that!” He yelled back dodging the can like it was a bomb.
“Why the fuck can’t you love me like you say you do!” She screamed hot tears running down her face, his frat boy friends watching from the sidelines whispering and making an excuse to leave to give them some space “geez you say it to every fucking girl you go balls deep in,” She cried her vision going blurry.
”Because I know I wouldn’t be able to love you like you want me to, I just don’t wanna hurt you more than you are right now” he said calmly walking up to her and grabbing her waist pulling her into a hug. “I know but I wouldn’t mind it” she said softly crying into his shoulders. “Yes you would baby, I can’t do that to you” he sighed kissing her cheek” she smiled subtly her cheeks going rosy at the sweet action. “Please,” she said her tears wet and shiny down the apple of her face. “Can we just try” she whispered leaning into his soft touch.
“No” he said softly hugging her more. “I can’t hurt you” he said kissing her neck and leaning into her. “Yes you can” she sobbed her vision going wet and blurry again, “please just say you can, we can make this work” she cried “I know we can” she said throwing her hands on his chest. “Please” she whispered calming down. “If I could I would, I promise baby” he said kissing her neck again, “let me make it up to you? Please?” He said looking at her damp eyelashes glittering up at him. “Chris..” she said unsure of Thats what she actually wanted this time. “Please I’ll make you feel better than ever” he kissed her neck “promise” he said biting at the supple skin, leaving his brushing mark. “Fine” she whined arching her neck to the side for his better angle. “That feels good” she whined as he palmed her breast, her nipples perking at the action.
“Wait” she sighed pushing him off of her body. “If I do this, please just say we’ll be more than fuck mates” she said not finished “I can’t handle another minute going on pretending I don’t love the way you make me feel! The way you touch me and the way you make me feel like the only girl you’ve ever laid a finger on, I hate that I have to go every day under your care and have you not understand the deep feelings I have for you, and how much it pains me to not tell you just how much I love you” she gasped “because I do”
He sighed “Fuck I love you so much” he said, meaning it “I never knew until now, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, I don’t want to hurt you. And I know pushing you away will hurt you but being with me will hurt you more!” He said looking into her bloodshot eyes. “I fucking love you, I love every little detail about you, how you act like a baby when you don’t get your way, how you smile when someone smiles at you. I notice every little thing you do Y/n, I love you and how sweet you are, it doesn’t matter how bad the person is you find the good in them, you treat everybody like their somebody, even me.” He gasped for air. “Even me, when I needed someone to be there and I pushed you away, I never realized you were that someone I was looking for.”
“So show me” she said, grabbing his shoulders and kissing him deeply “Show me how much you love me” she said pulling back and looking into his deep baby blue eyes “Show me”
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ondeemand · 3 months ago
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Transformers One Review
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For the sake of convenience, I’ll be referring to the characters as their new names (Optimus Prime, Megatron, Bumblebee) instead of their old ones (Orion Pax, D-16, B-127).
Also, I didn’t grow up with Transformers, so this will be mostly from an outsider’s perspective. I can’t tell what possibly was or wasn’t a retcon or how accurate to the source material it was, but I think the background info on their world held up very well and they were able to explain it clearly to new viewers like me. It definitely would have hit harder if I grew up with Transformers and knew more than just facts from cultural osmosis, but I still enjoyed the movie a lot.
Notes/Things I’m Neutral On
Very weird to hear my name (Dee) being said throughout most of the movie by Chris Hemsworth’s bad American accent.
Also, I forgot that Megatron has transformed into ground vehicles before. I only ever knew him to turn into a jet, so I was kind of confused that he was a tank in this movie. I hope we get to see him get upgraded to a jet in the next one, but the tank is still cool.
Pros/Things I Liked
Simple but effective color theory with their eye colors. Main good guys have blue while Megatron has yellow, sitting between good and bad. Still a friendly color at first, but slowly turns closer to orange and then fully red as his anger and hatred consume him (and after he met the red-eyed Starscream, a cowardly man who ends up enabling Megatron‘s more violent/aggressive tendencies)
○ Also I don’t know if I was just seeing things, but it looked like Megatron’s eyes got more yellow whenever he looked at Optimus which is so sad and so gay.
I really thought they were gonna push a romance between Elita and either Bumblebee (goofy manchild x competent woman trope) or Optimus (male lead x female lead, blue x pink), but I was pleasantly surprised that they didn’t. Sadly, there’s still time for it in future installments, but I can dream.
Not to be gay, but spider woman sexy. Airachnid was so obviously evil that it was funny, but I can’t fault Sentinel for having her around because I, too, would want a deadly goth woman to be my right-hand lady. They felt like the evil, less developed versions of Mustang and Hawkeye. I am in love.
The animation is gorgeousssss. The environments, the character designs, the fight choreography, the transformations, the lighting, the texture, mwah mwah MWAH STUNNING!!!
○ Sorry, I’m never gonna stop talking about this. The way they were able to make square/blocky figures move so fluidly was fantastic (and proof of concept that a fully animated Minecraft movie would have worked). ○ The camera angles were also great for framing both the dramatic, intense, and/or high-action moments like fights or chase scenes, while also adding a lot to the comedic moments. Like when the camera stays tracking Optimus’ face when running through the forest, only for him to suddenly fall down a cliff neither he nor us saw coming, only to then zoom out to the perspective of the guards below, showing them stumbling and falling. ○ The contrast between the mechanical and organic elements on the surface were really cool, and the way it was introduced was able to convey this idea that organic life was this strange, alien thing. ○ The way the surface just rebuilds itself into these jagged, blocky terrains was really unique and interesting! It felt like a glitched computer model because of its rougher shapes which really added to the fear and hostility of the surface.
90% of their jokes landed and they landed hard. The bit where Optimus looks like he’s about to transform and then just fucking books it is incredible. The audio and camera work help add to these as well, like the music building as Optimus pretends to transform, the camera zooming in close to different parts of him, only for all background noise to cut out as it shows Optimus running away. I won’t name every joke and quip I found funny or we’d be here all day, but they’re certainly a highlight of the movie.
I love Keegan-Michael Key, but I wasn’t a fan of him as the comic relief character of Toad in the Mario movie. When Bumblebee showed up I got a little nervous, but I really loved his performance of the character.
I really liked the midpoint pep talk about hope. That’s a really nice reason that Optimus is the leader despite not being as skilled as other people. He has the hope for a better future and it was a core part of his character from the beginning, and I really like the idea that a leader is someone who can envision a brighter future no matter what.
Alpha Trion transforming was SICK AS FUCK!!! I love that he was more animalistic when the rest of the cast become vehicles. His final fight was so cool, and it actually made me kind of emotional to see him at the end with the rest of the Prime ghosts.
The stabbings? The beheadings?? The branding??? The way Megatron tore Sentinel in half and then ripped his heart out on-screen holy shit???? This movie was incredibly brutal and I loved it. It’s such an interesting phenomenon that children’s media is allowed to be about as graphic as they want as long as it’s against robots, even incredibly sentient ones like in the Transformers series.
○ I watched the 1986 Transformers movie for a class earlier this year, and while it also had a lot of brutality in it’s fights, the new movie felt more intense. Part of this could be attributed to me watching the 2024 movie on a big screen vs the 1986 movie in my living room, but there are other reasons as well. The 1986 movie had more upbeat songs playing over the fights, specifically songs like The Touch and Dare, which helped keep the tone lighter and more exciting. The 2024 movie didn’t have anything like that, allowing the action, while still cool and exciting, to take on a more serious tone. This is also emphasized by the graphics of the movie being 3D instead of 2D. While the 2D 1986 movie is a stunning masterpiece, people still view it with the idea in mind that, since it’s a cartoon, the stakes and story will be less intense. The 2024 movie being 3D with very detailed graphics and lighting already has more visual intensity. The characters are still these bright, poppy colors, but they can come across more moody and dark due to the environments, lighting, and textures that the 3D medium more easily allows. And while the painted backgrounds and cell shading of the old movie are great, the CGI backgrounds are a lot closer to realism, so the harsher elements like metal and rock, which make up a vast majority of the environment and characters, look real too.
The way Megatron’s hate consumed him to the point where he started acting more villainous and, while not entirely similar to Sentinel, still ended up hurting innocent people was tragic. Trying to push away and deny everything about a person only to wind up being just like them. This was perfectly shown in the end credit scene where Megatron is branding himself and the new Decepticons with Megatronus Prime’s face. To him, it may be him reclaiming the traumatic experience and literally using it like a badge of honor, as well as thinking he’s honoring Megatronus Prime. But in reality, he’s just inflicting the same trauma done to him onto others, just like Sentinel. Such a cool way to show how every villain is the hero of their own story.
The doomed yaoiiiiii I’m never gonna get over them. The only other Transformers media I’ve consumed is the 1986 movie, which kills off Optimus Prime in the first 25 minutes and Megatron becomes Galvatron, so I never knew the depths of their homoerotic relationship.
I’m a sucker for “the hero and villain used the be friends (and maybe even lovers?)” trope, so Optimus and Megatron’s relationship and the general premise of the movie was already a slam dunk for me.
I’m also a fan of legacy stories like Avatar and She-Ra. While this movie didn’t get as in-depth with the concept, I enjoyed that they played with the idea of legacy and taking up the mantle of the former Primes.
I absolutely loved the end message that Optimus gives us. Hope, freedom, and autonomy are incredibly important things to learn, and as a trans person who very much wants to keep control over what I do with my body, I really resonated with that last one. I think it’s really cool that they included a message like that in this children’s movie about robots that turn into cars.
Regarding the message of autonomy, I love that it gives the term Autobots a new meaning. Auto meaning “automobile”, since they transform into cars, and Auto meaning “self”, as they are now fully their own bots with control over themselves.
Cons/Things I Disliked
Mid vocal performances from everyone except Brian Tyree Henry and Keegan-Michael Key. And as I mentioned before, it was hard not to focus on Chris’ attempts at an American accent, not to mention how recognizable his, as well as Scarlett Johansson’s, voices are.
The plot felt a little disjointed in the first 1/3-ish.
○ Good setup with the main characters being an oppressed working class with one dreaming of better things and the other hesitant to fall out of line or take risks. But then suddenly there’s a race, and then they’re in it, and then they lose, and then their leader wants to promote them. At first it feels like there are hints that he’s a scummy celebrity-type and that meeting their hero is what will spur on the disillusionment with their society. But then some random douchebag that doesn’t like them reassigns them which goes against their leader’s command, and that’s how the plot kicks off? ○ Also, Elita’s involvement felt kind of rushed/hand-waved. They all get stuck on the surface, but instead of trying to make her way back to report them like she was saying she would for the past few minutes, she makes a complete 180 and heads the expedition herself. ○ It all just felt a little strange, but once it got going the rest of the plot felt fine.
Megatron’s descent into “evil” felt kind of rushed. I understand that he feels betrayed and I really love where the character ends up by the end, but it felt like a real 180 without a lot of build up.
Some jokes fell flat or felt annoying and kinda cringe. That’s the territory of children’s movies though, so par for the course.
TLDR
Overall, this movie was a really fun watch and I’d love to go see it again. While some parts fall a little flat, the movie is lifted from mediocrity by its many Pros. From the stunning visuals, to the quick humor, to the tragic origins of two friends driven apart by their ideals, I’d recommend this movie to anyone interested in animation or the Transformers brand.
8.82/10
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treatbuckywkisses · 2 days ago
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HI I STAYED UP WAY TOO LATE TO READ THIS PART !!!! :))
(also this might be my longest rb so far)
SIX UPON A TIME
"You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick." - let's kiss him on the mouth 🫶🏻
"A reason to get up in the morning." - SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH.
"But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus." - No I can't do this 
"Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe. " - Nika I'm fucking crying. I wish I was exaggerating but I'm actually fucking crying before 10pm.
"But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real? " - the woman that you are. Oh. My. God. You are completely unreal this is phenomenal.
"His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either." - I have actual tears in my eyes you are so evil 
"That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though." - Nika I'm fucking sick to my stomach what the fuck is wrong with you 
Brief intermission bc I got too into it and read the rest twice before coming back to make notes (I was too immersed)
A crack in the sky you are insane I would FREAK
Where TF does bucky go during the day. As a naturally nosy gal the unknowns in this story make me ITCH I can't wait for everything to be revealed
"Why won’t you look at me? " - this is so hurtful why are you being so mean to me
HOW IS THE DELIVERY MAN EARLY IM LITERALLY IN SHOCK AND WE MOVED ON FROM THIS TOO FAST????????
"You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders." - hehe we have the cloak 🫶🏻 
""I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"" - why did this make ME relieved like I'm stuck in the loop too 😭 I literally have felt anxious for our dear reader like I'm sick and this has soothed my heart the smallest bit (I'm still scared of you)
"You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed." - Frick you for putting him in the floor what has my baby done to you let him be comfortable 😭😭 
"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up." - this made me LAUGH I needed that 
CAPS BDAY IM CRACKING UP THATS SUCH A FUN SILLY MOMENT
"He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes." - THEY ARE SO IN LOVE MY GOD IM SICK 
Why are we waking up to silence I'm gonna throw up Nika 
What did the powers do 
Alpine can see us that is both cute and scary 😅 
"You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him." - what is wrong with you 
"That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse." - how dare you write these 2 paragraphs and also put them so close together????????
"And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for." - FULL. BODY. CHILLS. WHAT A MIND YOU HAVE NIKA. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS.
"Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you." - THE LAST LINE ?????? I'm speechless 
"And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab." - ok chapter 7 pls 🫶🏻 
I'm kidding you are PERFECT I can't believe I missed out on this for as long as I did?!!!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your incredible brain with me I want to kiss you on the mouth I love you!!!!!!!
time after time [6]
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series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
word count: 12.8k
chapter warnings: maybe reacquaint yourselves with the story premise, it's been a hot minute; characters refusing to be honest with themselves and each other; violence against side characters, minor injury descriptions; strange is still annoying
a/n: this is quite possibly the scariest fic update i've ever made. a lot has happened since the last chapter was posted, and i won't bore you with all of it. suffice it to say, i missed sharing this story. thank you for being patient with me.
series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3
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six: butterfly effect
Working with Sam and Bucky was different than working with Natasha and Steve had been.
At the Compound, it had felt terrifyingly easy to find your place, to slip into the new role they granted you as if you were always meant to fill it. You’d felt that way before, and it hadn’t turned out quite so well. Maybe that was why you used to dread the end.
Now, however, for the first time in a while, you constantly had to prove yourself in order to not be left back in that dark place they’d found you in, alone and trying to make sense of any of it. And you liked that. The challenge was something you could live with, something you could enjoy more than the ever chilling anxiousness that things were simply too good to be true.
So when Sam called you on for a follow-up mission shortly after the first one, you jumped at the chance.
It didn’t matter that you barely talked about anything but work, even when you were hanging out in your spare time; in fact, you much preferred that to digging up the past. You even learned to find a wicked sort of enjoyment in provoking Bucky’s initial dislike of you to the point of where he would barely speak to you at all unless it was to snap at you.
You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick.
It wasn’t as easy to get under the new cap’s skin.
"You’re making us sound like we’re partners in a law firm," Sam said, a smile clearly audible in his voice even though his eyes didn’t betray it. Bucky didn’t even dignify you with a clench of his jaw.
"What?" you said, crossing your legs. "Every newspaper in the city calls you 'Wilson and Barnes'. Don’t you ever read the articles about yourselves?"
"Unlike some people, I don’t have all the time in the world," Sam said, leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed.
"Pity. The Bulletin called you the 'nation’s new dynamic duo' last week." You looked at Bucky, your eyebrows raised in amusement. "You’ve officially been downgraded to a sidekick, Barnes."
He answered with an empty glare of his own. "And what does that make you?" he said, but not like a question.
"Nothing at all," you still grinned. "Everything is right in the universe."
The reporters had yet to pick up on your addition to the team, which was proof enough that your powers still sufficed to fly under the radar. Combined with the fact that you were actually regularly talking to people again—and people who weren’t your therapist or your customers no less—, things almost felt like they were settling into a new kind of normal. Still somewhat weird, and still a struggle each day, but somewhat hopeful, nevertheless.
You’d almost forgotten what that could feel like.
“Right. You’d prefer people not knowing about your creepy powers.”
"Aww." You tilted your head to the side happily. "You think I’m creepy."
Bucky scoffed into his mug, refusing to look at you like he always did, and then he strolled off again.
In truth, you couldn’t blame him all that much. You’d lived with your powers all your life and still found them unsettling sometimes, particularly when they got away from you and left you trapped in a universe that refused to move.
That was none of his business, though.
Besides, Bucky had taken to moving around so quietly you could never tell he was there until he’d cough and you’d flinch, usually dropping whatever you were holding in your hands. You’d already cracked your phone screen twice.
Not that he’d know, or care if he did. It gave you great satisfaction to erase his amused smirk from existence.
"Give it time," Sam said without moving. "He doesn’t like new people."
"Neither do I," you murmured, and he snorted. "What?"
"Pretend with me all you want, but maybe do a bit of introspection there."
You crossed your arms with a pout. "You sound like my therapist."
"Mhm," Sam hummed, opening one eye to look at you. "You owe me fifty bucks for that."
"Fuck you."
"Oh, would you look at that, the price just went up."
He chuckled as you flipped him off and went to look for the coffee pot.
Of course, your way got blocked. The downsides of not hating having people around.
Bucky was leaning against the counter, considering you. "You go to therapy?"
"You should try it some time," you said distractedly, reaching around him to get your favorite mug. Bucky recoiled like he was afraid you’d burn him. You shook your head in annoyance. "Helps with the stink eye."
"Is that what they told you?"
"They told me I needed to process my grief, but I decided to focus on some more achievable goals." You took a sip of your coffee, sighing in comfort. "We came up with a compromise."
Bucky scoffed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He still hadn’t taken his gloves off around you.
"Sounds like a way to drag it out," he said.
You frowned into your cup. "It’s not a race, Barnes. There’s no finish line for this shit."
Something odd went over his face, but he went back to avoiding your gaze when you tried to make it out. You knew him well enough by then to get the hint, and so you left him alone.
What was it to you if he didn’t want to warm up to you. That had no bearing on the fact that overall, your situation wasn’t all too bad anymore.
It was something, you supposed as you curled up in your spot on the couch with your book later that day, slipping in and out of time to keep your company a little longer because deep down, you knew you were sick of being alone.
It was weird and different, yes, but it was still something anyway. Something to do with your afternoons again.
A reason to get up in the morning.
*****
"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks quietly, carefully, but he makes no attempt to pull back from your embrace. It allows you to take another shuddering breath, inhaling his scent until it makes you dizzy.
The fact that you probably won’t be this close to him again any time soon makes you press into his chest even harder, hard enough to feel his heart flutter against your forehead, the shock of the situation making it pick up speed.
For a split second, you slip into a sort of vacuum, your thoughts quieting as he keeps mumbling to you, and in that blissful moment, your situation doesn’t seem quite so dire anymore, more like a bad dream. You’re safe now, aren’t you? How could you not be?
But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus.
You don’t want to have to do this, you realize once your gasps for air start calming again. You’re not sure if you can bear it.
But nothing in this loop has been about what you wanted.
And so your resolve is made, with your heart sinking until it’s hidden away deep, deep inside of your chest. You ball your hands into fists to keep your fingers from twitching.
Two or three times he watches you inhale, start to say something, halt before you can, almost choking on it. Like your body is refusing to go through with it.
"How do you know when I’m lying?" you finally ask, and your voice sounds oddly clear in your small bathroom.
Bucky’s face goes from concern to confusion, his frown deepening. You want to smoothe it away with your thumb.
You close your eyes so maybe the temptation goes away.
"What?" he asks, and he still sounds so damn gentle.
"I’ve never been able to lie to you," you say. "What’s my tell?"
You can feel him move away from you and the ache of it makes you look again. His shirt and his hands are covered in his own blood, and you’re sure there’s some fucking metaphor in the way it stains the golden inlets of his vibranium arm crimson but for the most part, you can’t unsee the damn irony of it all.
Because you’ve pissed him off now.
"You scared the shit out of me, Y/N. And Sam, too." There’s the sharpness in his voice you know all too well. You haven’t heard it in a while. "What the hell is going on?"
"I’m trapped in a time loop," you say, squeezing your fists more tightly. "I’ve been reliving this day for weeks, my powers aren’t working, I’m the only one who can stop time from completely collapsing, I can’t do that without my powers, and you’re gonna die later today. Am I lying?"
It’s maybe the worst way you’ve ever told him, because watching Bucky’s face change is almost too much. This is exactly why you’re doing it, though; as long as you’re going through this loop with a giant guilty knot in your stomach, you’re not going to make any progress. And you need to put an end to all of it.
So you meet his gaze, almost unwavering, and you don’t blink.
His shock bursts free as an incredulous laugh. "What?"
"I’m stuck," you say again, slower, nodding at his hands, his blood, continuing to push, "and you keep dying."
Bucky looks down, then, before his gaze falls back onto you and he sits back on his heels. The pause lasts for way too long, heavy and smelling of iron, and you’re pretty sure you’re suffocating. He only says one word, and it sounds so defeated. "How?"
You swallow heavily. "You got shot on a mission," you say, but he shakes his head, the fire returning to his eyes.
"No. How did you get stuck?"
"I …" You blink, because you’re not prepared for this question, because you can never predict what he’s going to say, because he keeps doing that to you, because somehow, and not like you’ve expected, you feel like you’ve been here before.
How did it happen? That’s not … Okay.
"It was an accident," you finally say, helplessly, defensively.
There’s a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes. "What happened?"
"You died. You died that first time and I didn’t—I couldn’t …" You swallow the sob that threatens to shake your voice again. Damnit, you’re supposed to push him away.
He moves his arm, then hesitates, as if he wants to reach out to you but changes his mind at the very last moment.
Right. He doesn’t normally do that.
Except he has.
He has held your hand and pulled you closer and written on your arm and let you lean on him with the full weight of your body, as if to him, you weighed nothing at all. He’s been offering to carry your load so many times, and he doesn’t remember a single one of them.
"Please don’t look at me like that," you say tonelessly, watching Bucky retreat.
"Like what?"
"Like I’m gonna fall apart at any moment. And yes," you add when his mouth opens, "I—I know I just did, I’m aware of the irony, but this is exactly why I can’t keep telling you, I don’t—I can’t stand it." You press your wrists against your temples, ignoring the buzz of the whirling time symbols against your skin, the stinging in your eyes. "You shouldn’t even—I mean, are you even the slightest bit worried about yourself? Because I feel like I’m the only one here, and I should’ve just—"
You stop yourself, shaking your head. Your hands are very clammy all of a sudden, and when you tug at your rings just to do something, one of them slips off your finger and clangs against the tiles as if to punctuate the silence.
When you reach down, you move your wrist in a way that makes you hiss in pain and flinch back. Bucky’s eyes flit between your own and your hand, his frown deepening in a strangely soft way. "Did you break it?" he asks quietly.
"I’m fine," you mumble, and he looks at you disapprovingly. "You’d grabbed my hand just before …"
His jaw twitches as the blame settles in again, and you would do fucking anything to finally make him understand that none of this is his fault. That you should be in pain for what you’re putting him through.
"It should’ve been me," you tell him, because it’s true.
Even earlier in the week, you would’ve taken great delight in seeing Bucky Barnes’ face fall at something you’d said. Hell, you’d have probably enjoyed it on Thursday, because there used to be this easy sort of gratification that came from riling him up, from catching him off guard.
Seeing it now, though?
It makes your fingers twitch.
"Don’t say that. Not even as a joke."
"I’m not joking." You can feel your pulse in your ears. "They aimed a shot at me, and you pushed me out of the way, and you died. So by all accounts, if your instincts weren’t so damn noble all the time, it should’ve been me, and if I weren’t such a fucking coward, I’d have gone back and switched places with you weeks ago."
The thought terrifies you, even though it’s true. No part of you wants to go through the things Bucky is, but if someone gave you the choice between either one of you right now, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.
Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe.
"I’d like to see you try," Bucky says, and something slams into your chest as an old familiar shiver runs down your spine.
There’s a pained edge to his gaze, contemplative and heartbreaking and …
"You’re doing it again," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
"What am I doing?" His hand brushes your knee, and your skin is left searing.
You swallow heavily. "Being noble."
Bucky chuckles softly, and his eyes leave yours for just a moment. "Don’t exactly feel like that."
He’s beautiful.
It’s a new thought, despite everything. Even when you’ve noticed it before, you’d roll your eyes at the fact and move on, because this was Bucky. So what if his face was delectably handsome?
But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real?
So it’s pure instinct that makes you move, like someone would pinch themselves to ensure they’re not asleep, even though you’re very aware that this isn’t just a dream. You need to confirm that Bucky is real, though.
The air stands still when your fingertips trace along his cheekbone, leaving a delicate flush behind in their trail, barely touching and yet …
And yet.
His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either.
There’s a scraping sound at the closed bathroom door, followed by a short knock. You flinch backwards.
"I’m leaving the first aid kit on the bed," Sam calls from the other side. "Just … holler if you need me."
"Thanks, Sam," Bucky says coarsely, and you can hear steps receding. The scratching continues, though. That damn cat.
Finally, he breaks eye contact, clearing his throat.
"Do you want me to help you clean up?"
You shake your head. You’re not sure you could stomach more of this. "I’m good, don’t … Don’t worry about it."
Bucky drags a hand through his hair, muttering something to himself you can’t quite make out. Slowly, he gets to his feet again.
"We need to come up with a plan," he says, and you want to cry except … you’re tired. Tired and sick of this.
"I need to come up with a plan," you correct him. "We have been trying to do this as a team for weeks, and it doesn’t change anything except waste time and …" And hurt. "I can’t do it anymore, Buck."
There must be something in your voice that thaws his defiant glare a little. "So what’s the plan?"
And with a sigh, you fill him in on everything that’s been going on with Strange and your powers. Again. One last time.
You have to do this alone.
Bucky ignores your insistence that you can manage just fine and sets your wrist while you talk. Alpine, now free to roam wherever she pleases again, has decided the bathroom isn’t quite that interesting after a short look inside, and is now taking a nap in the spot of sunshine next to your bed.
"New deal," he says once you’re done, once he’s thought about it all, and you raise your eyebrows. "Don’t do anything stupid."
"You know me," you smile, checking the makeshift dressing around your hand. The green symbols are hidden by the layers of gauze.
Bucky doesn’t bite. "I’m serious, just—don’t."
"How would you know?"
"I wouldn’t," he says, snapping the first aid kit shut so vehemently Alpine’s tail twitches. "But I trust you."
Your head whips up at his words, even though his back is still turned to you. He doesn’t see your face as your heart is jostled into a new rhythm, so violently and unexpectedly that you lift your hand without thinking, pinkie outstretched.
"Promise."
He smiles when he notices, and you wish you could take a picture to carry with you through the rest of this nightmare.
That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though.
***
There’s been a change in the weather.
Not literally, no; of course not literally. Fuck, you long for a single cloud, a raindrop, a damn hailstorm to break the streak of endless perfectly sunny days that don’t fit your mood in the slightest.
But there’s a tinge to the sky that makes your stomach turn. It’s not very obvious to anyone who hasn’t looked at the exact same sunset for weeks on end, just a single strip of color across a storybook horizon. It looks like a crack.
"Do you see that?" you ask warily when you notice it for the first time, ominous and yet almost completely hidden by the trees and the buildings. Just dancing around the edge of your vision like another mockery.
"What?" Sam asks, eyes not leaving the path ahead.
"That … thing in the sky. What is that?"
Bucky stops and squints at where you’re pointing. "It’s called a cloud," he says dryly.
"With that color?" you murmur, but continue walking when he stops to turn to you, your wrist tingling. His stare is searing your neck, but you ignore that, too.
The best course of action, you’ve learned, is to shut your brain off as soon as you get out of the quinjet and just go through the motions, trying to ride out the mission like you’ve done dozens of times before. There’s a sort of autopilot you’ve fallen into after a couple of days, and it’s the only thing keeping you somewhat sane. Most days, it means it’s all over quickly, and you can’t help but feel glad about that.
You’ve given up trying to change your own actions to get him through the day.
But this …
It’s something new, and in all this monotony, that thought is both frightening and exciting. It distracts you enough to get you off script.
"Lovely interior design," Sam mumbles like he always does.
"Remember how this was supposed to be a day off?" You kick one of the pebbles in your path with a sigh. "What happened to 'don’t worry, Y/N, after training the day is all yours'?"
"Occupational hazard," Sam says, checking his map for the thousandth time.
"You know what I mean."
"Don’t you have tomorrow off?" Bucky says over the intercom.
Tomorrow. "Right." It comes out somewhat strained, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. "And why do you know that?"
Sam shakes his head and there’s a brief crackle of static in your ear. For a fraction of a second, you nearly dare to hope Bucky will give you an answer, even though you have no clue what it would be.
"They’re heading your way now," he says instead, "so get a move on."
And just like that, you’re back on track.
Quickly clearing your throat of the lump that has formed there, you say tonelessly, "I probably only have one reset left. Two, if we’re lucky and you two aren’t being stupid again."
It’s taken you a while to get used to it. To the constant lying.
You’ve worn fingerless gloves on missions before, so that’s not raised any questions from the others yet, and your rings stay hidden away. You’ve been more reluctant to take them off since the one you lost on your bathroom floor vanished into thin air.
The other thing you’ve picked up on while endlessly repeating this day is that Bucky is less likely to catch you in a lie if he can’t see your face.
So you’ve made an effort of spending as little time as possible with him.
It’s surprisingly easy to stay in your room for the majority of the day, because he doesn’t remember it ever being any other way. Even today’s little exchange will be lost to the loop soon enough, just like that little pause he made, just like the bullet through his heart.
Still, when you wake up with a start on Friday, July 4th, you look at the sky first. Its perfect blue doesn’t soothe the sinking feeling in your stomach at all.
You’ve been waiting for something to change for weeks, and now that it’s here, you don’t like it at all.
"What did you expect?" Strange says with an infuriating composure once you’ve nervously recounted your experience. "I told you, time isn’t supposed to get stuck in this way. Of course your reality was going to act up sooner or later."
"I really feel like you should be more concerned about this," you mutter, letting a ball of green energy pass from your left hand to the right. It’s about the size of a quarter now.
"Honestly," Strange answers, "I thought something like this would have happened a while ago." He taps his fingers together. "Again. Slower."
"So what am I supposed to do then, just ignore it?" The green ball pulses with your indignation, turns around itself once and then sinks into your palm again.
"In all likelihood, it’s a one time glitch. If everything is back to normal today, I wouldn’t worry about it."
Your thumb rubs across the empty space on your finger. "Easy for you to say if you’re not the one who’s stuck in an endless hellscape."
"Aren’t I?"
You both roll your eyes at each other, but then you bite the inside of your cheek again, unable to shake the feeling of a whole new shade of dread. "What if it’s not just a one time glitch?"
The corners of Strange’s cloak roll up on themselves, and he doesn’t meet your eye when he says, "We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it."
It’s still early when you return to the present, too early for Bucky to be back from wherever he’s always going, so you decide to venture out of your room again, stretching your tired limbs. You’re pretty sure at this point that waking up on the floor is never going to feel fun.
Sam is in the kitchen as always, reading something on his laptop. He’s still sitting down, which means that it’s even earlier than you expected. You miss these early parts of the day, the calm before the storm.
If today were only made up of these few hours, you suppose, it might not be half so bad.
You pull up a chair next to him and lean a cheek against your hand. "What’re you doing?"
"Research." Sam sighs, rubbing his temples. "Remember that ULTIMATUM group?"
"Never heard of them," you say with a small yawn. "Is that an acronym? What does it stand for?"
Sam gives you a glare and your mouth twitches slightly.
"Anyway," he continues, turning his laptop so you can see the article he’s reading. "They’ve been more active again lately. Acquired a couple thousand dollars’ worth of lab equipment through one of their contacts and then went underground again."
Of course, you know all this. You’ve been over it again and again, back when you were all still trading information like it could save Bucky’s life. Like there was a deeper meaning behind any of this damn loop other than the fact that you, and you alone, fucked up.
Useless.
You close the mental door on those thoughts and take a deep breath. You hate to admit it, but all of this sitting around with your thoughts bullshit you’ve been doing has actually helped you to clear your head somewhat—if only to make it through the parts of the day you can’t avoid.
"And now what?" you ask, pretending to just have reacquainted yourself with the topic.
"Now," Sam says, taking his laptop with him as he stands up and strolls over to the kitchen island, "I’m waiting for Torres to get back to me so we can decide our next steps once we’re all recovered." He gives you a meaningful look and you scowl.
Then, slowly, his words register in your brain, and you stare at his back as he stretches and then moves to make some coffee, wordlessly taking one of your mugs out of the cupboard as well as his own.
"You don’t seem too worried," you say hesitantly.
Sam shrugs. "Until we have a proper lead, there’s not much we can do. And I doubt they’ll be doing any actual damage any time soon. They’re a lot more covert than the Flag Smashers ever were."
"Right," you say, more to yourself than in response.
"Try that again, less convincing?"
"I don’t know," you mutter, slowly following him to lean against the fridge. "Just … what if Torres did find something? Should I be getting ready?"
Sam frowns. "Are you not telling me something again?"
You try to shake the thought, pulling your arms around you. "Forget it."
You don’t, though.
It keeps bugging you, because that day like any other day, he knocks on your door at 4:32 on the dot, and you go on that mission anyway. And even though this has been happening for weeks, you’re just starting to suspect that you are, in fact, still not getting the whole picture.
***
Catching a glimpse of Sam’s phone turns out to be more difficult than you first thought.
You’re still trying to get the timing exactly right a couple of days later, and you miscalculate enough to catch Bucky on his way upstairs.
"Hey," he says, his shoulders tense when he looks at you. There’s a restlessness to him that he’s not quick enough to hide; or maybe you’ve just grown more perceptive when it comes to him.
"Hi," you say, crossing your hands behind your back. "Where’ve you been?"
He shrugs. "For a walk."
You already know he won’t elaborate if you try poking, so you don’t. "Was it good?"
"Lotta people." He hesitates when you continue to not meet his eye, and then he says, "Do you want to talk about it?"
You swallow, ignoring the tingling sensation on your wrist. "Not particularly. Do you?"
Bucky’s jaw twitches. "Nah."
Somehow, you feel like that’s also a lie. Once again, you’re left wondering.
The silence between you stretches as you continue to not quite look at each other, until you finally clear your throat, nodding at the front door. "I’m getting coffee, do you want something?"
Honestly, it’s just an excuse as to why you need to leave before he notices something off again somehow, but Bucky tilts his head in amusement.
"Didn’t you just get some this morning?"
"So? I like coffee."
"Really. I never knew."
"Screw you."
You can hear him huff behind you, but thankfully the door falls shut before you can do anything stupid. Like turning around to face him, for example.
You miss his eyes.
Why won’t you look at me?
When the elevator doors open, you almost yelp into your delivery guy’s face. He stumbles a half-step backwards, somehow managing to keep a hold of the boxes precariously balanced on his arm while he’s reading something on his phone.
"Oh my god," he lets out, "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was just …"
"Early." You blink.
"Sorry?"
"Nothing," you say, frowning only a little. "Wait, let me get that."
You quickly sign for the delivery and open the door with your keycard, holding it open for him. You’re not exactly afraid of burglars these days, and besides; you know this guy by now.
"If you could just go straight ahead and to the right, that’s where the kitchen is."
"Sure thing," he shrugs. "Thanks—"
His mouth snaps shut and he blushes a little as if he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.
You’ve introduced him to Sam enough times you know he’s going to be fine, so you just smile and wave him in.
When you step out on the street, you instinctually look up at the sky. It’s outrageously blue, blatantly perfect for an endless Friday, and even when you squint, you can’t make out any irregularities.
It’s a tiny relief, but a relief nontheless.
Lucy is leaning against the wall just out of sight of the storefront, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips as she rummages through her pockets. Her colorful makeup has begun to melt off in the sweltering heat, making the red-white-and-blue stars on her cheeks bleed into each other to look somewhat purplish.
"Are you off or on break?" you call over.
She lifts her head, the glare vanishing when she recognizes you. "Counting the seconds," she says. "Don’t you have anything better to do?"
You sidestep a couple of pedestrians hurrying to cross the street and join her. "Not really."
"I hate you." She finally fishes a lighter out of her back pocket, sighing contentedly as she takes her first drag. "I swear, this day just won’t pass."
Fine. Maybe your chuckle is a little shrill. "I’m sorry."
Lucy waves you off with a gesture crude enough to make a young dad with a stroller send the two of you a dirty look. "You without your shadow today?" she asks, inspecting her nails.
You blink. "My shadow."
"You know. Your friend who’s been in here eight thousand times and still gets confused when he orders." A cloud of smoke vanishes into thin air. "Kind of the lingering type, isn’t he?"
"He’s old," you say, because for some reason nothing else comes to mind.
"Not that old."
"No," you agree, "not that old."
For a moment, you’re afraid she’s going to ask you to pass her number along to him, and you’re already scrambling to find an answer somewhere in the depths of your brain, coming up empty. That’s the problem with being able to unhave entire conversations; you don’t usually really have to deal with reactions if you don’t want to.
Without your powers, though, you’re stuck, and it’s making you wish you hadn’t come here at all.
Instead of any of that, she pulls a flyer out of her other pocket. "Sorin and Cass are doing a gig in Brooklyn next week, do you wanna come with? They’re still terrible, but they got a new bassist who seems alright."
You take the flyer, staring at it. "I didn’t know they’re in a band," you admit.
The truth is, you’ve never paid that much close attention to the people you work with. Maybe that’s been a mistake.
Lucy shrugs. "You’re always doing your own thing." It stings, even though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t mean for it to. "It’d be fun if you came, though."
"I’ll think about it," you say, and your smile is a little unsure, but genuine.
So is hers.
"If you don’t want to hang with us all night, you can bring some friends, too." Her emphasis hangs in the air between you like a dare.
You snort. "I feel like this isn’t quite their scene."
"You feel like or you know?"
"Isn’t that the same thing?"
"No." She puts her cigarette out on the wall behind her. "Knowledge is based on experience. On memories. Your feelings don’t sit in your head. And so they don’t make sense and they’re not necessarily true." She winks.
"You’re weirdly smart," you say, shaking your head.
"I know. It’s a curse." Lucy sighs. "Anyway, think about it. I gotta get back to hell."
"You know," you say with a grin, "I could really do with a frappuccino right about now."
"You know what you could do?" she answers in her sweetest customer service voice, pointing you down the street. "Get in a trash can."
Damnit. You might actually grow to like Lucy.
She taps her fingers against her temple and then shuffles back inside, a hot rush of air blowing out of the AC as the door opens. You fold the flyer up to fit into your back pocket, hoping you’ll make it to that concert one day, and then you walk on, aimless again for the moment.
***
Time passes while it’s standing still.
The problem is, at least for the moment, that by all appearances you’ve reverted back to square one. Going through your day as though any of this is even remotely normal, counting the hours and minutes to reenter the astral plane and feel some semblance of control again.
It’s been nice, really, if you’re ignoring the constant underlying feeling of dread.
Which you’re getting better at.
You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.
Rinse and repeat.
You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.
Even on days when you’re sure you’re making progress with your powers, every reset makes it just a little harder to keep dragging yourself onwards.
You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.
"You look like shit."
Your head rolls to the side slowly, allowing yourself a glance while Bucky is still distracted with his arm. Concentration makes his brows knit, and something warm spreads in your chest.
"I’m so tired," you say, voice barely above a whisper.
He doesn’t look at you, but you’re grateful for it for once. Your eyes are stinging a little.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Yes. Yes. Yes.
"Not particularly."
"Do you want to talk about something else?"
You almost smile. "Like what?"
Bucky shrugs with one shoulder. "Like the fact that you just planted Sam into the mat head-first and yet made a face like you killed a puppy?"
Sometimes you wonder how he still manages to slip in without you noticing, no matter how many times he does it.
"Did I?"
"Did you kill a puppy? I’d hope not."
Your body’s been getting stronger, anticipating Sam’s every move. At this point, it’s not so much training as it is an exercise in muscle memory; but how would he know that?
It still isn’t enough. It’s never enough.
You pitiful, selfish, useless bastard.
"You’re doing it again," Bucky says and you blink.
"Doing what?"
"I don’t know, but I don’t like it."
Something inside you twinges uncomfortably and you wrap your arms around your knees, pulling them into your chest. "That might just be me, period."
Bucky huffs. "Take the towel on the right," he says. "I already used the other one."
So you do.
And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with blah, blah, blah.
"I can’t do this anymore."
Strange watches you, but you don’t get up from where you’re lying, blankly staring at the ceiling, feeling like your chest is about to explode.
You don’t want to feel like something is tearing you apart every single time, even though you know it’s not permanent. There’s always the tiniest glimmer of hope that this will all be over soon.
Or maybe it’s dread.
"Maybe you can’t," Strange answers.
You blink, sitting upright. "What?"
"Maybe you are actually incapable of cleaning up your own mess. You’ve never had any training before, after all. Maybe you’re too weak."
Useless. Not good enough. Waste of time.
"If this is reverse psychology, it’s not working," you say through gritted teeth, pressing your eyes shut so tightly they don’t burn anymore.
Strange ignores you. "Maybe you’re going to be stuck in this loop forever. If that’s the case, there’s no point to keep trying either. Maybe we should just call it a day."
You can feel your breaths coming in shorter.
"Maybe you’re just going to keep failing to save anyone for the rest of your life."
"Stop it!"
An explosion of power goes through your body, bouncing off the walls and bathing the room in a ghostly green light. You cough and curl into yourself as you watch it billow, still echoing the words back at you, "too weak", "stuck in this loop forever". Your bones are heavy with exhaustion.
Strange crouches down next to you and a cup of fragrant tea draws itself up to the side of your face.
"You’re drawing the bulk of your power from pain. From a desire to fix things that you think you alone are responsible for when the truth is that each and every one of us is constantly creating reality."
"Fuck you," you mumble. When you sit up, your head is still swimming.
"You cannot keep this up."
"If I’m such a lost case, then why do you bother?"
"I’m trying to tell you that you’re not." He points at the walls, still covered by that greenish fog. "This is the strongest display of your powers I’ve seen from you yet, and it only happened because you were lashing out. Pain is not a sustainable source of energy. Imagine what you could do if you could be in control."
Do as I tell you.
"There’s no way to control my powers on a larger scale. It’s impossible."
"You keep telling me that, and yet you keep coming back. Why?"
You push yourself up to your elbows, wiping at your face. "Because I have to hope, right?"
"And there it is."
You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders.
The wizard himself stays quiet for another minute or two, before he asks, "Why do you think I’m talking to you right now? Helping you, even, nevermind your constant whining and your insistence that this won’t work, after you’ve spent your whole life running away from anything resembling actual responsibilities."
"I didn’t—"
"Answer the question."
"Because I created a time loop?" you guess.
"But you already know that this loop is just one point on the timeline. A single day, repeated endlessly, but going exactly like it was always supposed to, once resolved. So, without the time stone and my privileges as the Sorcerer Supreme, and with your protections still in place, how would I have found you?"
He knew exactly where and when to look for you. But he’s right, that shouldn’t even have been possible unless …
"I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"
"Of course there is," he says, surprisingly gently. "Time isn’t supposed to get stuck."
You sit with that for a minute, hiding your face in your hands as Strange stays silent. Finally, you take a deep breath and look at him again with newly sharp focus.
"So why don’t you just tell me how to do it?"
He raises an eyebrow. "You know that’s not how it works."
"Yes. It is. It’s literally what I do all the time."
"What you do is leaving realities you don’t like by turning backwards."
"That’s not true."
"Just because your motivations aren’t entirely selfish doesn’t mean you’re right."
You’re so damn exhausted. The frustration of this whole thing is really starting to scratch at your sanity, and there’s an ache in your chest as you stare at your own sleeping face, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking.
Strange snaps his fingers to get your attention back.
"I’m not a mind reader," he says. "Out with it."
"I want to see him," you say, getting up. The cloak flaps around you in a very satisfying way. "Bucky. It’s early this morning, right? Just before the loop starts again. That means he’s upstairs."
"And what’s seeing him going to do?"
You ignore him and walk towards the door, reaching for the handle. Your hand goes right through it. You try it several more times, to no avail.
"Heaven help me," Strange mutters behind you.
Shutting your eyes, you take a deep breath. The circle of green tingles around your wrist.
Then, you walk through the closed door.
You fully expect to crash into the wood head first, but instead you feel the door moving through your noncorporeal form, and then you’re standing on the other side.
With a startled hum, you turn left, not waiting to see if you’re being followed.
You only hesitate in front of Bucky’s bedroom door. You’ve never actually been inside his room since he’s moved in; well, apart from that time he patched up your feet and you woke up in the astral plane for the first time. It feels odd to consider entering without him actually being aware of it.
Then again, there’s quite a few things at this point that he’s unaware of.
Before you can make up your mind, the door swings open just a little, and you automatically take a step back. Alpine sleepily slinks through the gap and trots off in the direction you came from, probably to sit in the kitchen and mope until FRIDAY activates the food dispenser again. On the stairs, she passes Strange who raises an eyebrow at you.
"Changed your mind?"
You glance into the room.
At first, you can’t find him. The bedding looks untouched, and there’s a brief flurry of panic that makes you step inside before you can keep questioning yourself.
Bucky is lying on the floor next to the bed, his hands balled tightly into an old throw blanket. It’s haphazardly draped across his torso, like he’s been trying to wriggle free during the night. He grimaces in his sleep.
Try the floor.
You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed.
"Can he hear us?" you ask quietly, not needing to look over your shoulder as you sink to the floor next to Bucky.
"No," Strange says. "Not until you put in a lot more work."
"Would he remember if I did?"
"I don’t know."
You do look back at him, then. "You know, considering your position you don’t know a whole lot of things."
You concentrate on your own hand until you’re starting to feel cool metal underneath your fingertips, ignoring the throbbing of your head. Carefully, you touch the crease between his brows, smoothing it out tenderly.
Bucky sighs a little in his sleep, but doesn’t stir. Doesn’t stop quietly murmuring in his dreams.
"You feel better?" Strange asks.
"Not really." You’ve already reached out to him without it having any repercussions too many times. "But that wasn’t the point."
"What was?"
"Just …"
Comfort. He brings you comfort, even when he doesn’t know it. It’s the same reason you keep waiting for him to arrive in the gym in the mornings, even though you could probably hurry up and miss him.
Even if the loop never ends, it’s still good to see that it’s bringing him back like it’s supposed to.
How incredibly selfish, you think as you continue looking at Bucky and letting a quiet, hesitant wash of calm come over you.
And then, all of a sudden, his eyes open.
You flinch backwards, but even though you’re almost face to face, he seems to stare right through you, his breaths heavy.
"Did I do something?" you say quietly.
"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up."
You watch as Bucky drags a hand over his face and then gets up with a determined tick in his jaw, grabbing a notebook from the nightstand. He scribbles something down, hastily, like it’s threatening to get away from him if he doesn’t hurry. You don’t have to read it to know it has something to do with what he’s seen in his sleep.
When the words stop flowing, he sits on the edge of the bed for a minute longer, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. Finally, he rolls his left arm a few times before pulling on a shirt and his running shoes.
He always goes for a run in the morning. You’ve made fun of him for it before, but you hadn’t put together that while Strange was trying to get you to clear your own head through sitting still, Bucky might be doing the exact opposite to get the same result.
The door clicks shut.
"Are we done with the spying, then?" Strange says.
"No need to get weird about it," you mumble and take his outstretched hand.
***
Something changes once you know that your situation actually has an end date, even though Strange either cannot or will not tell you how many more loops you’re going to have to go through until then. Even so, there’s a new assurance to your every step again, a determination grown from the knowledge that all this isn’t for nothing. That there is an out.
You can cling to that.
"What would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?" you ask, letting your legs dangle over the ledge of the roof.
"Ew, no," Lucy replies, shaking the few remaining ice cubes in her cup emphatically. "My shift was long enough as is, and I’ve been looking forward to my Sunday off all week."
"Fair point," you concede.
It’s early afternoon then, and you’ve found a quiet spot on the top of the Tower. If Lucy was at all confused why you’d shown up at the store right when she clocked out and asked her to hang out, she’s not showing it. Over the past couple of loops, you’ve learned that she really likes to go with the flow, and you appreciate that.
"If it’s not today, though," she continues, like she’s thinking aloud. "Imagine the books you could read. You could try out all that stuff that you say you want to do, and then you never have the time to actually do them."
It’s a good thought, but a lack of time has never really been an issue for you. "Nothing you do would really stick, though."
She squints against the sun. "You realize that’s a pro, right? No consequences whatsoever. I could cut my bangs again and they’d be gone the next day."
"You used to have bangs?"
"Never, and I’m willing to state that in a court of law."
You smile and lean back on your elbows. "If something good happened, that’d be gone, too, though. You don’t get to keep that, either."
"Yeah," Lucy says thoughtfully. "I’d still remember it though, right? It still happened. I could make it happen again."
"Maybe." Your thumb scratches the empty space on your pinkie. Even though you’ve turned your entire bathroom upside down, your ring is still gone, like it just up and disappeared from this reality. You can’t help but wonder if that rift in the sky from a few todays ago has anything to do with that.
"What about you?"
"Hm?"
Lucy takes another slurping sip from her almost empty cup. "What would you do in a time loop?"
You can’t help but laugh. "I’d try to keep making the good things happen, I guess."
"Sounds like a lot of work."
It is.
"Are you out of your damn mind?" someone shouts behind you. "It’s in the fricking nineties today and you’re baking?"
"Technically, we are baking," you say, nodding at Lucy and leaning back further so you can look at Sam upside down. "And we’re baking for you."
"Hi, cap," Lucy says, pulling her sunglasses off.
"Hey." Sam crosses his arms and fixes you with a very cap-like glare. "Why are you baking for me."
"Y/N said it’s for your birthday."
"My—" He cuts himself off, rubbing his temples. "My birthday’s in September."
"Whoops," you say, your grin just believable enough. "My bad, cap."
"You’re not funny," Sam says, "I hope you know that."
You know.
Of course, today isn’t actually his birthday, not even if time were allowed to pass normally. It is day forty-fucking-nine of the loop, though, which makes it your fiftieth time living through this crap and frankly, you all deserve some damn pie.
It’s not going to make a difference in the long run, of course, and yet you can’t help but feel like keeping count of those little markers of time helps to hold your head above water. Making the good things happen, even if they don’t change a thing and no one but you is going to remember.
So you simply say, "It’s turtle pie," because you know that it’s Sam’s favorite. "Hey, what’s the time?"
"Oh, it better be," he says, holding his phone up for you to read and then marching out of your field of vision.
Sadly, you’re just about a minute early.
"He could’ve stayed," Lucy says when you let out a frustrated huff.
"He has that thing at the Garden," you tell her distractedly, taking a mental note to stall Sam a little longer next time.
"There you are."
You flinch at the sound of Bucky’s voice, barely daring to move your head when he sits next to you, his back to the brink.
He never comes up here. That’s the whole point.
"Hi?" you say carefully, and a grin tugs at his mouth.
"Not you," he says, nodding to the ground in front of him.
You turn around fully to find Alpine taking a nap just a few feet behind you, her snowy tail wrapped around a flower pot.
You let out a relieved breath and ignore the small sting in your chest. Of course he’s not up here because of you. Why would he be?
"Gee, thanks," you murmur, quietly shifting around so your hands are hidden underneath your legs. "You sure know how to charm the ladies."
You glance back at Lucy, but she’s looking at her phone, her eyes once again indecipherable behind the large sunglasses.
Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Think you could handle my charm, Y/L/N?"
He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes.
So you do what you always do and you block it out. Dismiss and distract.
"Does Alpine seem weird to you?"
He tilts his head, his jaw tight. "Weird how?"
"I don’t know," you say, staring at her. "She’s just been acting … odd, lately. Today, I mean."
And following you around in a way you’re pretty sure she’s never done before. Not before the loop, at least.
Bucky sighs. "Did you make her scratch you again? Because I’ve told you before that I’m not getting rid of her for enforcing her boundaries."
"First of all, I never make her scratch me, she does that well enough on her own."
"That’s victim blaming," Lucy says without looking up. Bucky snorts and you almost roll your eyes.
"Second of all, she’s up to something. I know it."
"Oh, yes," Bucky says dryly just as Alpine makes a small noise in her dreams, her nose twitching. "That’s the embodiment of evil right there."
"I don’t trust her," you mutter.
"And yet the cat’s the weird one."
"I hate you," you mumble, standing up. "I’m gonna go check on the pie."
"There’s pie?" Bucky says.
"Not for you!"
You turn at the door to see Lucy leaning in to show Bucky something on her phone; the frown has disappeared from his face, his shoulders relaxed. If he’d pull off his glove right now, it’d almost be like sitting in a park.
That’s good, you tell yourself as the door slams shut behind you with a bit too much gusto. Reminds you that there’s nothing special about you in particular, which is much needed, really.
Can’t wait to punch that one out of your system later.
Again and again and again and a—
"Whoa, whoa, you alright?"
You blink. Riff slumps to the ground in front of you, body limp.
Bucky stares at you in concern, his hand still on your shoulder. His lip has split open and there’s the usual bruise already forming on his cheekbone. You can’t help it. Your gaze is drawn down, your breathing shallow.
You screw your eyes shut to snap yourself out of it, but when you open them again, Bucky hasn’t moved an inch.
"Never better," you whisper, and for a split second, you almost believe it yourself.
Liar, liar, liar.
***
At least, you suppose, reality seems considerably less broken these days. No more cracks in the sky.
You get your wake-up call when you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY …
"… FRIDAY?" you say into the silence of your room, your heart pounding wildly. This cannot be happening. Not now.
Not yet.
He got shot again yesterday.
A pleasant jingling sound rings out. "Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N."
You look at the clock on the wall. Ten to eight, just like every morning. "What day is it?"
"Today is Friday, July 4th."
You can taste bile in your mouth despite your relief. There’s an impatient thrum to the symbols around your wrist, like a noose that’s tightening.
What did you expect?
"Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!"
"Didn’t you set FRIDAY to wake me?" you ask Sam as you’re climbing the stairs, nerves on edge.
He looks at you weirdly. "I did. You’re up, aren’t you?"
You bite the inside of your cheek. "Didn’t sleep well."
That much, at least, is still true. Full nights of sleep are a long distant memory from before constant back-to-back repetitions. The only time your body shuts off is when you manage to sleep for a little bit in between your astral visits and the mission call.
"I hope you don’t think that’s an excuse," Sam says, bumping your shoulder, and you manage a tired grin.
"You wish."
Today, you let him win, even though your ankle makes an odd crack when you land on the mat. You’ll take care of it later.
"You look like shit."
Grief and relief, you’ve learned, both taste like salt and iron, but the latter is so much easier to swallow.
"That makes two of us," you say, sitting up slowly. "How was your run?"
"Good," Bucky says, putting the cloth away and stretching his fingers out. They catch a ray of sunlight. "What’s wrong with you?"
Not this again.
"Later, okay?" you answer, because that’s not a lie. "Let’s just … not, right now?"
"Alright," he says.
And, oh, you want to tell him again. Because he doesn’t press it. Because you miss having someone to share things with. Because you miss telling him the whole truth. Because you’re scared, and tired, and sick of losing him.
But those are egotistic thoughts, and so you keep them all to yourself and take the towel on the right.
There’s one good thing about this today. You make it to the living room just in time to finally catch a glimpse of Sam’s phone right when it pings with Torres’ message.
I can check it out on Monday if you’d like.
That’s it. No urgency, weirdly proper spelling, not even an exclamation mark.
In other words, you’re not sure what you expected but you’re no closer to answers than before.
"What does it matter?" Strange sighs when you tell him all of this with a frown.
"It matters," you reply, "because if we hadn’t gone on the mission, Bucky wouldn’t have died that first time and none of this would’ve happened."
"So what?" he says. "It’s already done."
"But if I could prevent it—"
"It already happened."
"I can make it not happen."
"You and what powers?" Strange says sharply. "Even if you did that, it wouldn’t stop the loop."
"How do you know that?"
"Because you’ve already seen first-hand that it’s bound to you and your powers, not to whatever you do or don’t do during the day. Karma is a fairy tale for those who don’t want to take responsibility for their actions."
"Do you really still think this is me not taking responsibility?" There’s a green flare that goes through you, hot and seething and making goosebumps crawl down your arms.
Strange smiles at the sight. "Let’s find out."
He extends his arms and slowly opens his fists until orange symbols dance across his shaky fingers. The band around your wrist prickles at the weight of his magic flooding the air.
Strange’s cloak nudges you towards the center of the room and your heart gives a heavy thud. "What, right now?"
"Would you prefer being stuck for a couple weeks more?"
"Of course not it’s just—I don’t feel ready."
"No one ever feels ready until they try."
And maybe it’s because it reminds you of something Steve once said, but it makes you step up, falling into the stance you’ve practiced over and over again. You breathe in deeply and close your eyes.
The pull comes easier now. Your powers have just been resting, nestled somewhere deep inside your bones like glowing embers, waiting for you to call upon them.
When you look at your open palm, the green wisps of your powers have curled up to the size of a ping-pong ball. You take another steadying breath and let it glide to the tips of your fingers, carefully letting it balance itself out for a second before moving your other hand.
"Good," you can hear Strange say quietly.
Slowly, carefully, you let the threads untangle until they’re just about to touch the green band circling around your wrist. You can feel the electric tingle of it, the soft beat of each passing second contained within, and you push past it.
You’ve done this before, so you’re not surprised when you feel the energy drain from your body almost immediately. Up until now, though, it’s just been trial and error, not expecting anything to happen. This time, you have Strange’s magic feeding some of his strength into you as well, and so instead of hesitating, you press on, your heartbeat speeding up.
The band around your wrist does the same.
"Don’t lose your focus." Strange’s voice sounds very far away, almost warped.
Very funny, you might have said, but you’re too busy watching it all unfold.
The whirring inside of your head grows louder as the circlet of time keeps rotating with accelerating speed, faster and faster until your eyes start tearing up and there’s something that looks almost like a crack.
You gasp quietly. At first, you think you might have just imagined it, but then the split starts growing, the symbols growing farther and farther apart as the band itself keeps spinning. Your pulse is beating in your ears. Your wrist feels like it’s being set on fire.
There are voices, then, quiet and fast, like you’re watching a sped up movie, music and noises and chatter and birdsong and a whooshing sound like something flipping right past you. Then, something like distant shots.
I’m getting Bucky out of this, you think as the green band continues rotating until suddenly, there is a shockwave of green light that takes up your entire field of vision.
You close your stinging eyes, keeping your feet firmly planted on the floor as your powers rush through you once more and then, with a shudder, settle down again, exhausted. The glare subsides. Something like a trickle of sweat runs down your noncorporeal neck.
"Did it work?" you ask, your voice rough, not daring to look for yourself. There’s no answer, though. "Doc?"
Slowly, your eyes readjust to the gloomy darkness of your room in the astral realm. The only source of light is the glowing green band continuing to circle around your wrist, the rifts stabilizing again like it’s clicking back into place.
You swear under your breath and turn around to ask what went wrong, but Strange is no longer standing beside you.
You’re all alone.
***
Three, two, one—
"Iced grande extra whip caramel macchia—shit!"
You catch the plastic cup before it drops onto the suit of the business man standing in line in front of you. "Here you go, sir."
He grabs his drink with a grunt and hurries back outside. One of these days, you might ask him why he’s in such a hurry, but it’s not today.
You’ve grown to adore the noise of the pre-noon rush. The cacophany of the whirring machines, the AC and the people is just loud enough to make your head calm down a little. Besides, being alone in a crowd has never been easier than when you know for a fact they are not going to remember you.
The drinks are starting to pile up at the hand-out, and because you feel bad for your colleagues, you start handing them out to people. You’ve been here a lot, after all.
"Tall hazelnut latte for Misty!"
Plus, it helps to keep your mind from wandering back to everything that’s going wrong.
Strange still hasn’t returned.
The astral dimension feels different when you return the day after your experiment, like someone’s been pulling invisible strings to make everything just slightly more disordered and dark.
It’s cold, too. You watch your body shiver in her sleep as you wrap your arms around yourself. The books are still there, shimmering slightly with the magic they contain.
"Doc?" you call out, and the vibrations of this place hum it back at you. There’s no answer.
The book at the top of the pile is still opened to a page, as if it’d just been left a moment ago, and you pick it up. The words glide around like they are looking to jump back into an inkpot, and you have to squint to make out any of them.
Incursion, the section header reads. Result of a contraction in a universe’s timeline. Can cause premature disintegration or collapse of any one reality within the multiverse.
"Just great," you say, slapping the book shut again. "I get it, alright? You can come out now."
But there’s no sound apart from your own heartbeat.
Your noncorporeal head is swimming with pressure as you pass through the closed door and into the hallway. The walls seem larger than usual, the stairs warping ever so slightly underneath your feet so that you can’t look at them for too long without feeling seasick.
Upstairs, the air doesn’t feel quite as heavy. The silence follows you, though, lingering in the grayish morning shadows like the remnants of a nightmare.
Bucky still mumbles in his.
You can’t make out what he is saying, and you wouldn’t have understood the words, anyway, but there’s sweat on his brow again. His fingers are tightly clutching the thin throw blanket like it’s shielding him from whatever he’s seeing in his dreams.
You take a step closer to him, desperate to do something, anything, when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye.
Alpine is perched on top of the bed, complacently tucked into herself on one of the fluffed up white pillows like it’s really her room, not Bucky’s.
And she’s staring right at you.
You take a step to the side, then another. Alpine tilts her head, her large eyes fixed on you. They follow your gestures as you wave your hand.
A quick glance tells you that Bucky is still sleeping. You take a deep breath and conjure up a small dot of bright green light, letting it dance across your fingertips. Alpine uncurls herself in interest, her tail twitching.
"You can see me," you whisper, and the little spec of your power disappears.
The cat meows in disappointment.
Carefully, you move closer to the bed, reaching out your translucent hand until you place it on Alpine’s head.
She rubs against your palm.
You chuckle incredulously, scratching behind her ears. "You little devil."
Alpine seems particularly pleased with herself. She starts purring.
This is simply bizarre, you think as you continue petting her soft fur. You’re expecting a sarcastic comment from behind your shoulder any minute now, but it doesn’t come.
So, you lower yourself down on the floor next to Bucky, the tips of your fingers not quite grazing his arm as you swallow heavily.
And then you wait until he gets up.
It’s possible, you think as you watch him leave and then make yourself wake up too, that Strange is simply messing with you for the hell of it. You don’t like the timing of this, though. Your day still continues on and on and on, like it always does, but it seems just a little too pointed that this would happen right after you had your first hopes of getting out of here in a long time.
It doesn’t help that the reality glitches have decided to return with a vengeance.
Every day is still July 4th. You wake up with a start, you train, you get coffee, you fight over lunch, you take your astral visit, you go on that damn mission. It’s the details that start to get … fuzzy.
In the beginning, every single thing around you was the exact same every single day. Now, though, there are sometimes details that are just wrong. A different mug left on the drying rack. A mess all over the tables in the lab. Weird noises all over the Tower.
You don’t know what to make of any of it, and so in general, you follow Strange’s rule of thumb and simply ignore the things that are wrong one day and then right the next—which, thankfully, is all of them. You just go with it, telling yourself that this is simply reality malfunctioning a little, like a machine that needs oiling.
Weirdly enough, that doesn’t reassure you in the slightest.
But what else can you do?
You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him.
That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse.
Everyone’s back to their usual stuff again, and that’s that.
Another time, you’ve barely rolled out of bed and into your bathroom—"Rise and shine, McFly!"—when you’re suddenly jolted forwards and you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume. Your stomach feels like it’s still turning, nauseous, as if you’d sat up too fast.
That feeling still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, sticking to the back of your mind like the blood you haven’t even had time to wash off.
The thing that demands most of your attention, though, is the pile of books waiting for you in the astral realm. Since you don’t have any control over the loop itself, you pour all of your energy into trying to understand the theory behind your powers. It’s giving you a constant headache, and it takes a lot longer than you would like to admit, but at least you feel like you’re doing something that’ll last.
Nothing else will.
There’s one last lonely cup sat on the counter next to your own, which signals that the rush is over for now. You can see Lucy wiping her forehead as you wave your goodbye, picking up both drinks on your way out and handing one of them to the guy just hurrying back downstairs.
"Here you go," you say without stopping, glancing at your phone. You haven’t stayed this late before.
"What the—" you hear behind you, just before the doors glide open and you’re greeted by the sound of traffic and a hot breeze of air.
If you’re lucky, you can make it back to your room without anyone seeing you. You’ve moved on to a particularly hefty tome about relativity, and you’d like to—
"Hey! Miss? Hold on a second!"
You look over your shoulder to see the delivery guy has run after you, cup still in his hand. His bike is leaned against a lamp post nearby, his cap dangling off one of the handles.
You found out a couple of weeks ago that he takes his break just after dropping off your order, but you don’t usually make eye contact anymore.
Now, he holds out his cup accusingly. "That’s my drink."
You smile. "Good for you."
"No. No, that’s not—I mean—how did you know it was my drink?"
And because nothing really matters and you really want to go home, you say, "It has your name on it, doesn’t it?"
You expect him to look at you with wide eyes, just like people normally do when you know things you’re not supposed to. His mouth will drop open, speechless, his frown will deepen, and you can wink at him and continue on your way so he can spend the next couple of hours wondering what just happened.
The cup falls out of his hand, but somehow he manages to catch it before it hits the sidewalk. When he looks up at you again, and his expression is unlike anything you’ve seen coming.
"But that’s not …" he says quietly. "Do you remember me?"
And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for.
*****
"Honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this," you said quietly, looking over the rim of your glass at the crowd.
"You complaining?" you heard Sam’s voice say over the little earpiece you were wearing.
"Not at all."
Apparently, people connected to terrorist organizations threw incredibly fancy parties.
You hadn’t felt this glamorous in a while, if ever, dressed up to the nines in a dark green jumpsuit with an incredibly flattering cut that you’d never had a reason to wear before. Despite your initial doubts about this whole thing, you felt great, for the first time in way too long.
"Are you gonna move any time soon?"
Well. Mostly.
At least Barnes cleaned up nice, you supposed; it almost made up for his grouchy demeanor.
With a sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and got back to work. You let the crowd swallow you up, seemingly on your way to the restrooms, and then you stopped it all to slip upstairs unnoticed by prying eyes and cameras.
You didn’t hold it for very long; you had to rattle some doors, after all, and despite your espresso martini, it was still hard to tell if you could manage several redos back to back. After all, you’d only been back in the game for a couple of weeks.
It took you a few tries to find the right office, and locating the files was comparatively easy with what you already had access to. There it was, proof that ULTIMATUM had managed to secure most of the Flag Smashers’ previous supporters as well as some high brow weapon dealers.
While you copied everything onto a flashdrive, your eyes caught one of the designs. You frowned.
Even though you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly, something about it seemed just slightly too highbrow for an organization of the international bad egg committee that was supposedly still mostly underground. Your gaze started drifting through the rest of the office, noting the usual boring books and glass awards in the bookshelves on the far wall. You pulled open one of the desk drawers.
"You almost done in here?"
"Fuck!" You slammed the drawer shut again, getting your pinkie stuck in the process. "Damnit, where did you come from?"
Bucky pointed over his shoulder.
"Fuck me," you murmured, your eyes stinging at the pain.
Bucky looked nonplussed. "Can’t you just undo it?"
"Great input, thank you." The flashdrive beeped softly and you shut everything down again. At least you were definitely sober now. "What are you, anyway, my babysitter?"
"Wouldn’t have to be if you could check in on time," he answered, checking the corridors, then nodding for you to follow.
"Time’s a social construct," you murmured, but followed him, the flashdrive hidden in your fist.
You didn’t even make it to the staircase.
"Didn’t I tell you?" a voice said right before several triggers clicked and you both froze. "I knew I’d recognized that arm. And who do you have with you here, Winter Soldier?"
No one, you thought, and then you yanked time backwards so forcefully you stumbled into the desk, your heart still racing. The copy sat at 57%.
You felt almost seasick with the rewind, but there wasn’t any time. "Keep going upstairs," you said into your earpiece.
"What?" Bucky said.
"I’m fine. Don’t come get me. Just keep going," you gritted through your teeth, trying to calm your breaths. 70%.
"Exit plan C, then," Sam said.
Bucky didn’t answer. You looked at your hands. There was a slight tremor to them, but nothing too bad. If you could get the nausea under control, you could probably make it past the cameras one more time.
You should’ve eaten more.
As soon as the flashdrive was done, you ripped it out and forced everything to a halt again. Your palms were sweaty as you hurried out of the office and in the direction of the staircase, your lungs burning. This didn’t feel like a good sign.
You stumbled over your damn heels and the noise returned for that moment you lost your concentration.
Not good enough.
Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you.
A small crowd had assembled at the bottom of the stairs. As you closed in on them, you felt a jolt go through you and suddenly found yourself surrounded by people as time attempted to right itself again. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm so hard you could feel yourself draw blood.
It went quiet again and you moved through them, almost blindly. Everything seemed to be spinning.
Behind your shoulder, you could hear several people talking, interrupted only by the world stopping around them every now and then.
"—d’you—see that—"
"—could’ve—sworn there—”
And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab.
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chapter seven
thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚
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livelovecaliforniadreams · 24 days ago
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dennisboobs · 2 years ago
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It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
↳ moments that make me cry
#PATERNAL RELATIONSHIPS. GUARANTEED TO MAKE ME SOB.#iasip#it's always sunny in philadelphia#dennis reynolds#frank reynolds#mac mcdonald#charlie kelly#ada's gifs#ada speaks#dennis holding brian jr makes me. full on cry.#the way he goes from awkwardly holding him & trying to play it off like he doesn't care. nervous laugh and a glance back at mandy.#'am i doing it right?' i'm not fit to be a father. this is completely foreign to me.#tips his head against his son's. clenches his jaw. tries so hard not to cry with everyone standing there watching. hugs him closer.#says he's done saying goodbye and then backs away with a look of visible upset when mandy tries to take brian jr from him.#and. dennis kissing frank. at first going to hug him but deciding against it. too intimate. too much commitment.#and again... 'am i doing it right?' is this is how sons are supposed to act with their fathers? ''was that okay to do?''#charlie just wanting someone to be there for him. to care for him. to care *about* him.#and frank. who caused immense damage to dennis in the short stints when he was actually around. but *was* around.#frank makes everyone realize that they are what charlie needs right now. that they all love charlie.#dennis. who is grateful for frank having been there. as abusive and selfish as he may have been. dennis took that and closed himself off.#taught himself to guard against it. shut off his feelings. prioritize himself above all else. he's Strong because of frank's neglect.#incredibly damaged. unhappy. but Strong.#because the ones who are supposed to care about you most in the world just don't. YOU have to care about you. that's how frank lived too.#charlie has chosen to avoid his entire life.#and now he's been forced to confront it all. he'd been content not knowing if frank was his biological father.#he had a father figure who cared for him. and he wasn't around because he didn't know charlie was alive. he thought bonnie aborted him.#but the reality of it all is that charlie's biological father avoided too. he knew charlie was his son. he spoke to him and *lied* to him.#and just as soon as they reconnect and have a chance to make up forty years of lost time#he dies. he fucking dies. and leaves charlie alone again. to carry him up a goddamn mountain by himself. shouldering this grief and anger.#charlie can't be selfish. he isn't allowed to now. because his dad died and left him one last task. he still doesn't want to let him down.
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hauntingblue · 2 months ago
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ARCANE EPISODE 7!!!!
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MY GOD I WASNT READY FOR ANY OF THIS!!! WHAT WAS THAT!!!
Also ekko wallpaper I got with my fries lmao
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#OH MY GOOOD!!!!!! POWDER AND EKKO!!! AND BENZOOOOOO#ITS LITERALLY WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN OMGG!!!!! POWDER LOOKS SO CUTE 😭😭😭😭 IM CRYING ALREADYYYY#VANDER WITH A BUN!! AND EVERYTHING IS SO FULL OF LIGHT!!! HER EYES!!! MYLO LOOKS SO RIDICULOUS AKDJSK THIS GIRLAAA#“where would you be without her” WELL BUDDY IF YOU KNEW HOW HE IS WITH HER!!! VI IS DEAD????? OR SHE WAS TAKEN FOR THE INCIDENT!!!#LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID JAYCE!!! MY GOD!!! THE GEMS KILLED VI SO THEY JUST COMPLETELY PROHIBITED THEM!!! JAYCE IS IN JAIL PROBABLY!!#the fact we are seeing exactly why jayce should be sorry about what he has done.... and we are seeing him suffer because of it... cinema 🚬#also mel fading into viktor.... also has he realised how she manipulated him in the beggining??? there is so much stuff...#jayce eating contaminated animals and his wound being infected with the arcane too..... is that what will push him....#omg.... ekko likes powder so much... he apologised by painting actual adult vi portraits where the fallen are in his universe 😭😭😭#“she looks so badass” if you knew... is he gonna ask her to help him make hextech.... that is so sick and twisted....#also jayce hurting his leg loke viktor and having to use a cane and brace.... damn and you know whats worse..... that ekko could be like#this with the jinx of his universe IF ISHA HADNT DIED!!! AND IT IS BEACUSE OF JAYCE!! AGAIN!!!!! THIS MAN!!!!!#the drawing with the anomaly and the two men and the inifite symbol... we get it... jayce and viktor forever intertwined by fate....#powder is sensing something is off.... omg time travel..... THE LIMIT IS FOUR SECONDS AFTER HEIMERDINGER EPXLODED ALDHAKSHSKSJSOJSOSLS#i dont want a time travel ending.... if its done for plot to an extent is okay but idk about solving it all.... it makes it feel worhtless#claggor looks so fine its not even funny..... i cant wait to see what everyone thinks. WHERE IS THE LITTLE LADY bc hes called little man 😭#and vander with arm tattoos.... why did they hipster fied him.... he looks younger somehow ajdhakj he went from taking care of 4 kids to 3!#SILCO!!!! AND HE DID TRY TO KILL HIM!! ALSJAKSKAK Ekko just laighing at it.... girl i would be pissed STROMAE??? OMG POWDER!!!!#I JUST REALIZED THE PINK IN HER HAIR IS FOR VI!! AND HER JACKET!! AND A DRESS LIKE HER MOTHER'S!! CRYING!!! FULL BODY CHILLS!!!#CAN WE JUST PRETEND LIKE ITS THE FIRST TIME!!! I GAVE UP ON YOU!!! WHAT HAPPENED BACK THEN I NEED TO KNOW!!! IM SOBBING!!! EKKO!!!!#NOOOOOOO THE ANOMALY NOOOOO!!!! HEIMERDINGER NOOOOO!!!! AND THATS JAYCE!!! IS THAT MAGE VIKTOR???? the monkeys......#the vi toy with the out love song machine.... my god i wasnt expecting any of this i need to breathe i am stil tearing up my god#what a fucking punch in the stomach christ i cant breathe right akdhsksso#the credits saying the deries has benefited from a spanish tax rebate in the canary islands??? you're welcome i guess lmao#animation production carried out there and has ben collaboration with the Spanish gov... alright another win for perro sanxe#talking tag#watching arcane#watching arcane season 2#watching this i dont think im ready for caitvi sex.... after reconciliation even like what will be of me.... now im scared#i am still scared bc idk what happened to jinx and vi and cait still... thats what worried me and boom!! ekko powder with the steel chair..
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hunterofartemis7 · 1 day ago
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Calypso sat sadly on the beach of her island. She missed her “lover” Odysseus. Why did the gods have to take him away!?
“Calypos..”
Calypso turned to the voice behind. She was rather surprised to see a scarred goddess of wisdom standing behind her. Her surprise quickly turned to annoyance. “Go away, Athena.” Calypso told her, turning back to face the ocean.
“No,” Athena says, “we need to talk.”
“Well I don’t want to talk to you so go away!” Calypso yells at her. Athena didn’t listen and walked up, taking a seat on the sand beside her. Calypos pulls her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. “Are you happy now?”
The sudden question kinda caught Athena off guard, “pardon?”
“Odysseus went back to his “wife” and never has to see me again. In the 7 years he was on my island he never called for me, but the second he got the chance he calls for you! He called for you and the next day Hermes tells me I have to let the love of my life go so I ask again, are you happy now!?” Calypso yelled at Athena, tears starting to flow down her face.
Athena doesn’t say anything, just looks at the crying goddess with pity. Calypso turned away from her, wiping the tears off her face.
“I am, but not the reason you think.”
Calypso looked back at Athena, who was watching the waves come up to the shore. “What?” She asked.
Athena answered again. “You asked if I was happy now, I am, but not because he’s off and you’re alone.”
Calypso was confused, but mostly still upset. “I don’t understand.”
“Odysseus is back where he needs to be, with the people who really loved him—“
“I DID LOVE HIM!!” Calypso cut her off, getting up and yelling in Athena’s face. Though she was unfazed. “You loved not being alone anymore. You loved the idea of finally having someone here all to yourself and didn’t think about how he might feel.”
“Shut up..!”
“Calypso I don’t doubt that you loved him, but not the way you really think you did—“
“I SAID SHUT UP!!” Calypso yelled furiously, using her magic to entangle Athena in thorny veins. “YOU DONT KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!! YOU NEVER FELT IT!! I DID!!”
Athena was unfazed by this, she knew calypso probably did love him and wanted him, but it was more she didn’t want to be alone anymore. “You’re right, I’ve never experienced romantic love, but I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it between Odysseus and Penelope and that wasn’t what you and Odysseus had.” Athena snapped and the vines disappeared around her. She brushes the sand off her clothes completely unbothered by Calypos attempted to intimidate her.
“Why are you doing this!? Why are you telling me any of this!?” Calypso yelled again.
“Because I want to help actually learn how to have a real connection with someone and not a forced one.”
Calypso was ready to strangle Athena, or throw her off her island but her last comment made her curious. “…why?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why do you want to help me so bad? I figured you of all people would hate me.”
“Because I’m trying to make the world a kinder place, what’s a better place to start than here?” Athena answered. “Plus…I was willing to give up everything to help Odysseus, who’s to say i can’t help you too.”
Calypso just stared at her before walking up to the goddess. Athena was bracing herself, thinking Calypso was going to punch her or something, but she didn’t. Well, she was going to, but stoped last minute and started crying, hugging Athena and burying her head into her chest. Athena was a bit taken aback by this, though wasn’t entirely surprised and just hugged the poor goddess, stroking her hair and letting her cry.
“I…I hate being alone..!” Calypso sobbed.
“I know” Athena coed, “I know.”
After calming down, calypso agreed to let Athena teach her about actual having an emotional connection with someone and how not to force anyone to do things they don’t want to. They had to get Hermes involved cause while Athena was getting better at her own emotional connection, there were some aspects she still needed work on. Athena considered introducing Telemachus and Calypso, or having Calypso apologize to Odysseus, but figured it was better to keep everyone apart.
Someone better at character writing than me please write a fic about Athena going to ogygia post Epic to rehabilitate calypso and teach her how to make actual genuine connections for once (she���s gonna be to calypso who Telemachus was to her) (spreading her new warrior of the mind agenda of making the world a kinder place)
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melissa-leaf · 8 months ago
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this man just broke my heart
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beanghostprincess · 10 months ago
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Help I just finished the usopp v luffy fight and now I'm crying (I know what happens later and I knew this was coming but still)
I can give you a hug, a gun, or a therapist. I personally recommend the first one because I don't have money for a therapist and you need to live to keep watching the show so. Yeah. Do you want a hug-
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masked-and-doomed · 30 days ago
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POOKIE'S DEAD. :( CRODE.
They went and showed his whole backstory too like?!?! His whole point to live is to die in battle!?! FUCKKK WHAT THE HELL TIT.E KUBO WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GO SO HARD ON THIS UGLY SEXIST MOTHERFUCKER
.......can I even finish Bleach with him gone...... I'm much more devastated than I thought I'd be...... They went so hard on his death...... Like oh man you didn't have to rip my heart out......
#that's Precisely why he died and kenpachi lived. Kenpachi didn't like dying. and Nnoitra's whole purpose was to die.#oh okay I'm tearing up again as i write this that's fine.#he's fucking dead. i thought it'd be like the others where it's just like. That's a wrap! NO THEY DOVE INTO HIM.#HIS ONLY GOAL IS TO DIE IN THE BATTLEFIELD. HE SHOWS NO MERCY TO ANYONE.#ALSO THE CUT TO NNOITRA AND NEL MEETING EYES FOR ONE FINAL MOMENT BEFORE HIS DEATH#?#TESSRA CRYING AS NNOITRA DIED?? LIKE I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD BUT HE WAS SO :( HE WAS CRYING BEYOND HIS GRAVE????#NNOITRA. NNOITRA YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME NNOITRA.#i cant save him guys his whole life is to die in battle. can i even convince him out of that.#He's doomed himself. Oh My Fucking God. NNOITRAAAAA#FROWNING EMOOOJI. NNOITRA.#i dont know if i can save him guys i think he doomed himself. he's so stubborn. He's the most stubborn motherfucker alive.#Nel and Kenpachi both wanted to stop when he was 'defeated' but he was still breathing. to him a battle isn't over till someone's dead.#he doesn't want to be seen as weak. he hates pity. his inferiority complex goes so fucking hard.??#maybe not inferiority but. Insecurity. he's so. o my Fucking Lord.#head in hands.#can i even watch bleach after this.#THE MOST. FUNNY PART. IS THAT. WITHOUT KNOWING. I'M PRETTY SURE I BOUGHT THE VOLUME HE DIES.#PAST ME BOUGHT THE VOLUME HE DIES IN. I'M PRETTY SURE. OR AT LEAST.#THE VOLUME RIGHT BEFORE HE DIES.#OKAY I SKIMMED. HE TOTALLY DIES IN THIS ONE#OH MY GOD. PAST ME. PAST ME. FUCK YOU PAST ME. YOU GOT THE VOLUME HE FUCKING DIES IN.#YOU IDIOT. YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW NNOITRA EXISTED AT THAT POINT. YOU GOT THE VOLUME HE FUCKING DIES IN.#FUUUUUUUUCKK#I'm gonna kill him one million times over I fucking hate this guy#writers on ao3 i beg that you made him happy i hope you made him happy please give him joy in his life ao3 writers please i need him happy.#sobbing.#not drinking bleach#spoon cloak
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louismygf · 2 years ago
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girls when they just finished watching aotv
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#ok this is my review#i didnt 'just finished watching' but u get it wtv#louis tomlinson#all of those voices#ok unless u wanna b spoiled u need to get off these tags rn!#i honestly thought there'd be more of the songwriting producing planning and bts footage of him working on his music#like i thought that'd be the main focus#more..... artistry and musicianship things yk? this thought made me want a behind the album doc so bad djfjf#but i do get it bc he set touring up as his ultimate goal as a solo artist. he said early on how it's his fave part in onedee#now im not saying touring ≠ artistry bc duh going on tour is fundamental for artists and for some like louis- it's what they love most#anyw thats just me. a behind the album doc could easily fix this. kinda my fault for expecting a whole different narrative hahshdj#OKAY BUT ANYWAY the first half was jam-packed with lots of feelings. heart rending gut wenching soul crushing stuff#it was so emotional i was with my sister and i didnt wanna cry beside her but i just couldnt help it 😭#him and his family talking in depth about their loss felt gutteral. strong family... about his mom and about felicite#hm yeah </3 mmkay thats a wrap we dont need me sobbing again thinking about this family#so about the touring!! we see him struggling to find his feet to perform confidently through the years#yk... last 1d performance in xfuk. jho for xfuk. ultra fest too i think? ...ccme. telehit. scala... 2 walls tour (2020) shows in spain#aotv spoilers#its actually insane how massive his insecurities became during and post 1d 😭#bro was acting small roles as a child. was 'popular' in school. lead singer in a cover band. main lead in grease & auditioned for xfactor#and post 1d??? man didnt know what to do with himself. it's sooo!!!!!!!!#it's evil actually leave that man's poor confidence alone! 😭#the doc ended beautifully :> showing scenes of his show in milan. 30k+ people. ONLY there for louis!#by this point hes built up enough confidence to perform btm live for the first time!!!!! hard song to sing and he smashed it 🥹#the title truly encapsulates everything huh. voices in his head. voices of industry ppl whispering in his ear. voices of criticism. and#voices of fans cheering and singing his songs#cathartic ending 🫶🏼 loved aotv!!! when btm played girl you Know i was gone 😭#loved that he included the fitf uk no.1 too!!! it's a pretty little bow to this wonderful gift#i would Love to add more but i reached 30 tags LMAOOO yk what maybe i'll rb this with more tags😭💀#louis u deserve the world the moon the stars entire planets and all the galaxies 🫂 mwuah
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digirainebow · 1 year ago
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i didn't think jacob would be arguing with olivia, wanting it almost as much as her. what the hell. i expected the self defeated, taking one for the team attitude but actively needing it like her? when he had been trying to stop her all night? i feel like i've been blasted by a buckshot
#digi discusses#the world needs more jacobs and i just took him out of it#did he go back to being a kid again? to see the lights of possibility again?#to feel like he's doing something exciting and worthwhile again not by making art but by being “freed” by maggie's knowledge once more?#or did he. choose another timeline entirely? augh i'm gonna have to watch the ending back again...where did he go...#maggie would be turning in her graaaaaave to know he chose this. she would hate that for him she would h a t e it#the anna parallels. stuck between time only able to hear him on radios if you are lucky. fuck off#becoming an urban legend...i think he would have liked that. immortalized just like he wanted. ugh wait did riley do that for him#but the details getting lost his name becoming warped over time? i think riley (and i) would feel it was almost disrespectful to his memory#the fact he puts meeting riley on the same pedestal as saving camena. god god god god. even when they aren't friends they are.#riley talking to athena like a person like he did. i am MISERABLE#its the dys exocolonist thing all over again. he's happy and that's...good. but he could have been just as happy if he'd stayed too#every single time i think about the hug i'm going to cry#every single ending has done this to me there is literally no winning#being kinda mean to him was bad enough but this ending just feels! it feels like riley. like i. drove him to.#girl i need to log off bye#oxenfree II spoilers#yeah there's the essay. just took a minute#i will make another one about hurt healed olivia in a bit too because that. made me sob. that one hit really...close to home#he says when he was a teenager he would have fallen for it if someone told him he could open a portal in the sky and make things better#what a liar he would still do it now#EDIT: NO i knew it he says almost exactly what nona says after you hug her when you hug him. the orange-associated characters strike again
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cuteniaarts · 9 months ago
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Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl
17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019
#my art#artists on tumblr#I cannot accept that it has been 5 years already#I know covid messed with everyone’s sense of time but it simultaneously feels so much longer and so much shorter than that#exactly five years ago I was holding onto my mom for dear life and sobbing as we watched lilo and stitch together#not the best movie to watch when you’ve just lost your first ever pet you know#and then I cried myself to sleep at the next morning we never mentioned her again#I know it’s because it was way too painful for everyone involved. but I do wish I was allowed to process that grief properly#instead of bottling it up and pretending everything was okay until I was reminded of her#feeling like my heart was being shattered over and over again every single time#well anyway. enough of that. I’ve allowed myself a nice long cry today and got most of it out of my system#and once I was feeling okay I decided to draw her#and I can count the number of times I’ve drawn animals on one hand so.. I’m not too sure about the result#but it felt like to commemorate her in some way.#so yeah. here she is. my dear girl. the best dog in existence. she was always so affectionate and kind#which I didn’t always appreciate bc of how young I was. when you’re a kid it feels like pets will live forever#never barked. never bit anyone. her only crime was chewing on my mlp and lps toys that I left out on the floor#but I’m grateful she did that. it taught me not to leave my toys lying around and to clean up after myself#she really was taken from me way too soon. ideally she could still be alive right now. but I’ve been down the road of guilt and regret#there was nothing I could do. I was a child. I can only hope that she knew she was loved right until the very end#even if I didn’t know how to show it properly. and great. now I’m tearing up again#I suppose it’s unavoidable. April 12th will always be a melancholy day. and maybe that’s not such a bad thing#it’s good to have a day when I can freely remember her and cry if I need to. it’s healthy. it’s better than crying every day#she never liked it much when I cried. always tried to comfort me. that’s the kind of dog she was. I miss her so much#when I move apartments and get a dog of my own I’m getting a spaniel. just like she was#well. maybe a different colour so I don’t end up sobbing every time I look at it. but spaniels really are the perfect breed#I mean. cavaliers especially were bred for love and warmth. that’s just what I need. it will be nice to have someone waiting for me at home#and while I don’t necessarily believe in the afterlife… I do hope that Fanny’s watching over me#spiritually comforting me when I feel all alone in the world. it’s a nice thought for sure#and hopefully she won’t mind me getting another spaniel too much. it will be done in her honour after all. to make up for my past mistakes
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eddiestattoos · 10 months ago
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I'm doing great thanks for asking
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